The stork who once dropped me off at my parents house turned out to be completely cross-eyed. He missed the doorstep, dropped me by the orphanageblundering chicken. And since then, everything in my life seemed skewed.
Still, by forty, Id managed to climb out of the ditch that daft bird had left me in. Id built myself a house, taken a wife, even scraped together enough pounds for a used car. All that remained was to plant something and to raise someone.
One child, Emily and I could handle. The thought of two never crossed our minds.
On this bleak and rainy morning, as I brewed my coffee, I mulled over planting, growing, and the miserable British drizzle. My sensible boxer shorts fluttered on the line in the draftironic, really, that Id bought them well before I ever had a family.
Then, a knock at the balcony window. The neighbourhood kids hurling stones at pigeons again? What they really needed was a stork to teach them a lesson, the little rascals.
Another rap. And another. Who could it be? I lived on the third floor.
I pulled back the curtain. There stood, amazingly, the very same cross-eyed stork from my childhood imaginings, shuffling his spindly feet on my balcony.
Get lost, you beast, I shouted, startled. My toast dove off the counter, butter-side down.
Sorry, Thompson, old chap, the stork stuck his gangly head through the half-open door, Im to blame, I truly am. Take a nippreferably from the right wing, its a bit meatier.
Sod off, I growled, trying to shove his neck back outside with both hands.
Dont be daft, Thompsonlet me finish, the stork coughed, his feathers bristling in the wind.
Youre talking now, are you? I snapped. I swear, Ill tie you in a sailors knot.
Ive come to apologise, I swear.
Bit late youve shown up, beaky.
The doorbell blared. Emily was home.
Get out, I ordered, finally managing to push the bird back onto the balcony. Disappear before I get back.
Out of habit, I spun around and ran for the front door.
Sorry, Thompson! So, so sorry! the stork called out, its beak poking through the window gap. Ive fixed everything!
Emily burst inside, soaked and radiant, hair plastered to her cheeks, her eyes shining like city lights. Had she seen the stork too?
Honey, guess what? she shrieked, flinging her umbrella to the side and throwing her arms around my neck. Four! Four!
Four what? I stared, confused.
Were having quadruplets! she squealed. Four little ones, all ours!
Suddenly, the storks words and this miracle knitted themselves together in my mind. I shot out to the balcony, just in time to catch the sight of the cross-eyed stork taking flight.
I lunged for his tail feathers, but he was gone.
Come back, you old devil! I yelled as he disappeared into the rain. Come back, you beaky menace!
Sorted it! drifted back down from the smoky London sky.
I turned. Emily was behind me, tears of pure joy streaming down her face.
